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Where Is My Wife?
Veröffentlichungsdatum:
15.03.2026 01:03:23
Aktuellstes Kapitel
CLAIMED BY THE DON Remember Me, Elena!
ENZO’S POV She kept shaking her head, her voice cracking higher with every denial. “I’m not Elena. I’m Sofia. Sofia Vatel. You’re wrong. Please let me go.” My grip on her shoulders tightened until I felt the fragile bones shift under my palms. Rage boiled up from somewhere deep, black, and endless. Five years of burying her in my head, five years of whiskey, silence and nights spent staring at her photo until my eyes burned, and here she was—alive, breathing, terrified—and still insisting she belonged to that bastard Dante. Her breathing turned ragged, shallow gasps that made her chest heave too fast. Color drained from her face, her eyes rolled back and she collapsed before I could catch her. I caught her before she hit the floor, scooped her into my arms bridal style, and pressed her against my chest. The doctor stared, his mouth open. The two nurses froze mid-step. “What are you waiting for?” I asked, my voice low and flat. “Start working on the paperwork immediately. We’ve
CLAIMED BY THE DON I Am Not Elena
SOFIA’S POV My palms slapped the observation glass so hard it vibrated. Inside the room Renzo’s tiny body arched off the bed once, twice, his limbs jerked violently, and uncontrolled, while a nurse was already pushing medication into his IV. The chaos in the room sent me into a panic mood. I watched my baby lay there, barely breathing. “Open the door! Let me in—he’s my baby!” I screamed as I tried to go in. A nurse grabbed my wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. “Ma’am, please. You have to stay out here. We’re working on him.” I ripped my arm free and threw myself at the door handle again. Another nurse stepped in front, her palms up like she was calming a wild animal. “He’s seizing badly. We need the space. Please, you need to sit and catch your breath. We’ll come get you the moment it’s safe.” Safe. The word tasted like ash. I staggered backward until my back hit the cold wall and my legs gave out. I slid to the floor, knees drawn tight to my chest, rocking hard enough that my
CLAIMED BY THE DON She’s Alive
ENZO’S POV The jet cut through low clouds above the Mediterranean, engines humming steady while my pulse refused to settle. I sat in the leather seat with my elbows on my knees, staring at the iPad Matteo had handed me twenty minutes earlier. The screen still showed the frozen airport footage: the man with Dante’s build and gait, lighter hair now, walking beside a woman whose face stayed hidden behind scarf and sunglasses, a small boy balanced on her hip. Every time I blinked the image burned behind my eyelids. Matteo sat across from me, laptop open, fingers moving fast. He hadn’t spoken since takeoff. I finally broke the silence. “Anything yet on the background check I asked for?” He looked up, expression careful. “Yes, Capo. I ran everything we have access to, passport records, business registrations, property deeds, and socials. The man in the footage is registered as Riccardo Vatel. He’s been operating under that name for at least six years. He’s been a resident of Monaco all
CLAIMED BY THE DON Save My Son
SOFIA’S POV The taxi driver slammed on the brakes outside the emergency entrance and jumped out before I could even fumble for cash. He yanked the back door open, helped me scoop Renzo from my lap with both arms, and started running. He had seen the despair in my eyes when I called out to Renzo all through the drive here. He had watched a broken mother beg the universe to spare her son. I scrambled after him, my sandals slapping wet concrete, and my heart hammering so hard it drowned out the rain. "Help! Please, my boy isn't waking up!" His voice cracked as he burst through the glass doors, cradling Renzo against his chest like he weighed nothing.Nurses swarmed us almost immediately. Someone took Renzo from the driver, laid him on a gurney, and wheeled him away so fast the wheels squeaked. I tried to follow but a firm hand caught my elbow."Ma'am, you have to wait here. Let them work."I jerked free and lunged toward the swinging doors anyway. Another nurse blocked me, her palms
CLAIMED BY THE DON Run, Sofia, Run
SOFIA’S POV The thermometer beeped once, sharp, and accusing. I pulled it from Renzo’s armpit and stared at the red line. 40.2°C. Higher than an hour ago. His small chest rose and fell too fast, his cheeks flushed dark red, his curls plastered to his forehead with sweat. I pressed the cool cloth to his skin again, but the heat poured off him like steam from a kettle.“Hold on, mon cœur,” I whispered in Italian—the only language that still felt like mine. “Maman va t’emmener chez le docteur.” “Mom is going to take you to the doctor.”He didn’t answer. He just whimpered as his tiny fist clutched the edge of my dress.I glanced at the clock on the nightstand, it was 1:17 a.m. Riccardo had been gone since six am. Business, he’d said. Always business. Always the same excuse.I stood up and lifted Renzo against my shoulder. His head lolled, too heavy. Panic clawed up my throat. I carried him downstairs, my bare feet silent on marble, past the locked front door, past the security panel tha
CLAIMED BY THE DON Five Years of Ash
ENZO’S POV The bass throbbed through the floorboards and up into my bones as I sat in the shadowed VIP booth overlooking the main floor. Lights sliced across sweating bodies, strippers twisting around poles with mechanical grace, hips rolling to the same relentless beat. I swirled the whiskey in my glass, ice clinking softly, and stared down at the chaos without really seeing it. Five years had carved lines into my face, dulled my eyes, but the ache in my chest stayed sharp as the day I watched that car go up in flames. Matteo sat beside me, nursing a single beer he hadn't touched in twenty minutes. He knew better than to drink when I was like this. Across the low table, three men in tailored suits that cost more than most people's cars leaned forward, voices raised to cut through the music. Vincenzo "Vinny" Russo led the pack, gesturing with a fat cigar as he talked about shipments, territories, and the usual blood money mathematics. I nodded when I had to, letting the words wash o
CLAIMED BY THE DON Salt and Accusations
ELENA’S POV I sat on the bottom step of the Lungomare promenade, knees hugged to my chest, bare feet buried in the cold, damp sand that still held the day’s heat in tiny pockets. The wind came in sharp gusts off the bay, carrying diesel from the road above and the sour smell of rotting seaweed. M
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-03-21CLAIMED BY THE DON Ice on the Breakfast Table
ELENA’S POV I woke to the taste of iron and the echo of screams that weren’t mine. My fingers still remembered the weight of the scalpel, the way skin parted so easily under the blade. I sat up too fast, heart jack-hammering against my ribs, the black shirt I’d fallen asleep in was stiff with drie
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-03-21CLAIMED BY THE DON The First Taste
ELENA’S POV The soup had gone cold ten minutes ago, but I kept spooning it into my mouth anyway, mechanical, tasteless. My hands still trembled from the beach, from the woman’s screams, from the word kidnapper ringing in my ears like a bell that wouldn’t stop. I had scrubbed my skin raw in the sho
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-03-21CLAIMED BY THE DON The Call That Tore Me Apart
ENZO’S POV The Montague’s Villa clung to the cliff like a memory that refused to die. Inside, the living room glowed amber from the old brass lamps, and the air carried rosemary, red wine, and the faint sweetness of the fig tart Mrs. Montague had pulled from the oven an hour ago. Every surface he
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-03-21
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